“Now,” said the Prince,[61] “great marvels have I here;” And summoning from those who waited near One of his own Assassins, bade him go Up to the highest tower, and leap below. Strange was it when the soldier ran Joyous, and quick, and smiling, as a man Who looks for great reward, and through the air Leaped fearless down. And far below him there King Baldwin noted how his lifeless bones, Mangled and shattered, lay about the stones. When leapt the first man marvelled much the king, More when five others, as ’twere some light thing, At his command leaped down from that tall height. “Sir,” said the Prince, “no man, of all my might, But blindly hastens where I point the way, Nor is there one so mad to disobey.” “Now by Mahound,” the Caliph cried, “not I: Far be it from me your power to deny. For, as it seems, the greatest man on earth, A very god, a greater far in worth Than Mahomet himself art thou; for none Can do, or shall do, what thyself hast done.” “Thou speakest truth,” the Prince replied, “and lo! As yet thou knowest not all, for I can show The fairest place that ever yet was found.” And so he led, by many a mazy round And secret passage, to an orchard fair, Planted with herbs and fruit trees: hidden there, Deep in a corner, was a golden gate. This to the Prince flew open wide, and straight Great brightness shone upon them, and behind Upwards long flights of silver stairs did wind. Two hundred steps they mounted: then, behold, There lay the garden as the Prince had told. Ah! what a garden! all sweet hues that be, Azure, and gold, and red, were here to see: All flowers that God has made were blooming here, While sparkled three fresh fountains bright and clear— With claret one; with mead all honey-sweet The second ran; while at their thirsty feet The third poured white wine. On a dais high Was set a golden table, and thereby Sat Ivorine, the fairest maid of earth. Round her, each one a jewel of great worth, Two hundred damsels waited on her word, Or sang as never Baldwin yet had heard The maids of Europe sing: and here and there Minstrels with golden harps made music fair; Ever they danced and sang: such joy had they, So light seemed every heart, each maid so gay; So sweet the songs they sang, so bright their eyes, That this fair garden seemed like Paradise. But Lady Ivorine smiled not, and sat Downcast and sad, though still content to wait Her knight—the flower of knighthood—who some day Would surely come and bear her far away. Baldwin bethought him of the maiden fair, Whose fame had gone abroad, and everywhere Looked, till his eyes fell upon one who seemed